Hourglass
by KittyCarmine
Summary: Eric's world was slipping away like sand sinking grain by grain by grain... (Eric/Alan. Oneshot. Contains character death. Alternative Title: The Great Pretender)


**Hourglass**

* * *

"Are you all right, Eric?"

"...yeah. I'm heading back to Alan. See you tomorrow."

Eric had long since grown used to the pitying looks and ignored them all. The fight wasn't worth it any more. Not when his world was slipping away like sand sinking grain by grain by grain... There was no hope, no cure, no mention even in folklore. He still pretended to stay positive though, for Alan's sake. They had sorrows enough.

Tutting, Eric rolled his shirt sleeve back down, numb and unsurprised to find he had made the walk from his office to the new living quarters on auto-pilot again. He rarely remembered taking his blazer off either but Eric could never get used to the daily injections no matter how out of it he was. Still, at least the evening jab served as a reminder to put on a smile before Alan saw him.

_Alan..._

Alan's health was so fragile that nowadays they lived under controlled conditions. Both of them. That fight _had _been worth it. It had taken Eric dropping his usual laid back attitude to kick up a fuss and scream "of course he bloody knew" about the rarity of the situation before the powers that be took them in as a pair. He and Alan, together as they should be. Even when it meant living under observation. Still, they adapted, they changed, they found a way to carry on together as they always had.

But to see Alan treated as a test subject made him feel sick. Alan deserved better than this. He was pale to begin with but being cooped up all day was starting to turn him ghostly. Sure, Eric wasn't a fan of being jabbed but it was better than the alternative. While they were not exactly living in quarantine Alan's defences were now so low simply walking into the room in a cloud of tobacco smoke was enough to give his lover a coughing fit which led to Alan panicking then collapsing in agony when even the small exertion triggered the Thorns of Death. Eric's jabs and occasional blood tests were a precaution; he couldn't risk catching anything and then passing it on.

It was strange though, Alan the reaper reacting similar to how an ill human might. Eric had once let slip how similar the new developments were to previous cases he had reaped but it made Alan look at him like he was crazy so Eric didn't mention it again. Now he had thought about it he could see even drawing the comparison had been tactless in the extreme, but Eric's sleeping patterns were inconsistent these days and sometimes his concentration slipped.

Alan slept a lot. Eric could spend entire off-duty days barely even blinking while he watched his partner rest. Alan never nagged him about it now if he caught him sitting staring. They both knew.

Quitting his baccy and booze was child's play compared to watching his partner's slow decline. He couldn't even vent his frustrations out on the job because Eric's rota had been changed to desk duty. Only desk duty. He understood. It wouldn't do to be out on the field, or worse mid-battle, if Alan took a turn for the worse... Oh gods, he really didn't want to think about that.

One day a reaper, some forgettable prat wearing the new style white suit, had stopped by Eric's office and began talking about Alan _in the past tense _until Eric shut him up with a smash of his fist, taking no pleasure in splattering the other reaper red.

He and Alan had been separated for a while after that little stunt. Alan had found out about the fight and worked himself into such a state thinking over the situation he took a Thorns attack which landed him in intensive care for days on end. Not being allowed to visit had almost killed Eric. The night they were reunited they both wept, struggling to keep things calm. The wracking sobs Eric was tempted to give in to would surely set Alan off and the last thing he wanted to do was trigger a relapse.

Alan's life had a limit.

When their crying was done it was the look of resignation in his partner's eyes after which haunted him far more than reproach would have done, time was trickling away and Eric was selfish to squander it. Guilt was the main reason he hadn't complained when they were moved rooms again, now with both of them being kept an eye on. Being watched more closely put another strain on their sick joke of a relationship, but they learned to whisper their darker conversations at night when only skeleton staff were on duty.

Eric was emphatically not the carey-sharey type of bloke but he had found he needed to talk to his partner, really talk, to keep grounded. Those days without Alan had been hell. Eric must have gone to work during them, he was an exemplary reaper after all, but all he could remember was white walls. Ironic that Alan was his anchor when nowadays the younger reaper was so light he may as well have been weightless. Alan, always his light.

_Alan..._

Alan was resting on the bed and Eric was careful not to disturb his partner when he climbed in beside him. He needed his rest.

* * *

Eric didn't like this mattress. At home they had worn through more than a few and although a saggy mattress wasn't brilliant, rolling together sometimes led to pleasant unplanned happenings. The only dip he could feel in the mattress he lay on now was around Eric himself.

He teased Alan about being only skin and bone but for him to be so very light was worrying. Maybe it was a good thing Alan's body was hidden away by the provided pajamas. Boring brown and red pajamas with a pattern of old man _paisley _...a pattern which didn't show up blood speckles too badly when his partner had a prolonged coughing fit. The only other option was floral and Alan had outlined in no uncertain terms what Eric would not be having the privilege of if he even joked about him looking pretty in girls' clothes.

Alan was though. Pretty as girl. Prettier. Even when he woke Eric one night with a scared confession to clumps of hair coming away while he combed. Bless Alan, fussing over his chestnut locks just like a girl. Thinning hair for a reaper was worrying, but Eric managed not to show his concern and simply paid more attention to Alan's hair than usual. Just in case. Eric subtly took note of its colour, its texture, how that long sweeping fringe framed Alan's delicate features perfectly. His lover's crowning glory was back to normal in a few days and Eric mentally breathed a sigh of relief before thinking no more of it. Sometimes Alan's medication did odd things.

They were ok for the moment though. Apart from the mattress. It smelt wrong. It barely registered his partner's scent at all even when Alan was right there next to him. Eric hated this mattress. Much better to forget all about it for a while and make the most of his boyfriend being awake and smiling gently.

Alan's touch was so light nowadays, this was like kissing a memory. They used to kiss properly. Why couldn't they kiss properly? Ok, so Alan was... ill but a real kiss couldn't do _that _much harm surely. Eric lifted his hand, intent on slipping it into his lover's silky hair to hold him close, but Alan moved out of range before he could touch him.

"Eric... I can't... I'm sorry, Eric. But I, ah, I don't mind when you... you know."

If Alan blushed any brighter he was going to burn pillow away and Eric didn't have any words, staring mutely at his "lover" before he closed his eyes and rolled over onto his side, his back now to the other reaper. It was noticeable Alan was not even letting his back touch Eric's.

Alan minded, of course he minded. Eric knew. There was once a time when they couldn't get enough of each other, to go solo felt like betrayal.

Dead silence in the room. Sometimes he hated that reapers didn't have to breathe.

* * *

The two of them were going on a trip today. Alan wanted to see the ericas so Eric was going to bust him out of here, he hadn't figured out how yet, but where they were going was a real beauty spot. Tall, sturdy trees and a pretty little weir further on down the lane. He would have to encourage Alan to lean on him if they went down that way though, it was slippery and all manner of things got smashed on the rocks. Eric had even imagined he had seen a deathscythe wedged blade side up there once. It was dangerous. As was dwelling too long on that line of thought.

Besides, Alan was the sentimental one out of the two of them, filling their flat, their real _home_, with useless knick-knacks although lately it had been Eric smuggling things into these borrowed rooms ready for the flit. A dinner knife here, a tester pot of jam there. Eric wasn't sure where Alan was stashing them as he could never find them again when looked for them.

But Alan was going to have scones. He loved scones. Sometimes, if they had been getting on really well, Alan would be cheeky about the cream but right now the poor boy was fading away. Alan was practically see-through with barely any meat on his bones to keep the heat in and Eric found it disgusting that the Dispatch's budget was so tight this bedroom had big puffy wall coverings instead of a proper fire. Still, it was warm in here, even feverish at times. He put up with it for Alan's sake; he didn't want to see his partner with ashen skin and pale lips again.

On days like today, when Eric found it too stuffy, he had taken to lazing around shirtless. He would dress properly before they stole away in the night but right now they were simply relaxing together, Alan ghosting his fingers over Eric's fringe while he rested. This was nice. Peaceful. Eric smiled without opening his eyes when Alan kissed his forehead and whispered that he would be right back, padding away at roughly the same time Eric became aware of the steps in the corridor.

With a sigh the tall reaper hauled himself off the bed and stood to greet the visitors. Alan would probably nag him about being improper but the stuffed suits who had burst into the room after only the most cursory of knocks had started it by being bloody rude.

"Eric Slingby. With regret, it is the decision of the board to euthanize-"

What?! NO! This could not be happening. They were so close, so damned close... This trip was going to be the last one anyway, why couldn't they let Alan see something beautiful before he drifted away like snow. One last look at the stars. Oh gods, he didn't want to think about that. What were they saying? He had missed a few words.

"-unfit to carry out duties despite repeated-"

Thank gods Alan was in the next room, it would break his heart to hear that. It was the only reason Eric was keeping silent, for now. This was serious stuff though. Alan really should know what the charges were before they argued against them. Where was that bloody door? All the insulated walls looked the same but his clever boyfriend had the knack of finding the way into the other room. All right. The hard way. Eric began calling for his partner and planned, if he had to, to cut through the reapers between them and the door he could see. He and Alan had a date today.

"-and varied treatments, prolonged due to exceptional past services rendered. All rehabilitation attempts have failed-"

How many suits were there? Two, no, four. Six? Reap it, they were hard to focus on when his vision was blurring. He would figure out what was making his eyes water later, for now better to focus on the reapers closest to him and work from there. So. One reaper helping him to sit and another taking his arm. That was kind, Eric was feeling a bit shocky. He raised his voice still further. Where was his boyfriend? T'ch! Couldn't the evening injection have waited? The surprise made his voice crack. He could have sworn he had already had his jab today. Where the hell was Alan? Eric would stop shouting just as soon as his partner came back.

"-since the death of Alan Humphries, eighteen months previous."

_Alan..._

-END-


End file.
